


A Dumbass

by noodlecatposts



Series: Noisy Neighbors AU [5]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, NN Spinoff, Noisy Neighbors AU, One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26321782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodlecatposts/pseuds/noodlecatposts
Summary: A One-Shot of what went down between Elide and Lorcan at the afterparty in Chapter 42/43.A Noisy Neighbors Spin-off.
Relationships: Elide Lochan/Lorcan Salvaterre
Series: Noisy Neighbors AU [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1734661
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	A Dumbass

##  **The “Broody Drummer,” Lorcan Salvaterre.**

Lorcan can’t keep his eyes off of Elide as he chases after her through the crowd. His eyes are glued to her, watching as she uses her slender stature to weave through people with ease. A large part of Lorcan suspects it’s intentional, that she’s using this skill to her advantage in an attempt to lose Lorcan by darting through openings he can’t. It pisses him off to no end.

The drummer has half a mind to just let Elide disappear and find somewhere quiet to feel sorry for himself, but Aelin’s stupid words keep marching through his head, bossing him around even when she’s not present. _Show your hand_ , she’d said. Gods, Lorcan would really appreciate it if Aelin would just shut up for once. It’s so inconvenient when she’s right.

Elide is already at the bar by the time Lorcan catches up. He drops into the seat beside her, watching her polite smile to the bartender morph into an unforgiving frown in his direction. Lorcan’s heart sinks at the visceral change in her mood, caused merely by his presence. He hates that she feels so negatively about him, Elide who makes his heart beat so fast with excitement that he feels sick.

“What do you want, Lorcan?” she snaps at him. Lorcan speaks simultaneously, asking, “Can we talk?”

Needless to say, the ensuing silence is awkward as fuck.

Elide scoffs at him. “What could we possibly have to talk about?”

Her words sting and Lorcan doesn’t manage to stop the flinch in time. Elide doesn’t notice, though; she’s trained her eyes on her nails, neatly kept short to aid her guitar playing. Lorcan notices that she’s painted them—black, of course. However, the longer Elide looks at them instead of Lorcan, the more she picks at the polish, ruining all her hard work.

Boldly, he rests his hand over hers, trying to stop the destruction before it becomes irreversible. Lorcan will never admit out loud how many times he’s caught himself watching Elide while on tour, drawn in by her focus as she poured every ounce of attention into her manicure. It’s something Elide values, something she likes having done herself. Lorcan would hate to see her destroy all her hard work.

Elide’s big brown eyes stare at him. Lorcan has to clear his throat before saying, “I’m trying to apologize for being a total dumbass.”

“There aren’t enough hours in a day, Salvaterre.” She snorts at him, tossing that beautiful hair of hers over one shoulder.

Suddenly, Lorcan recognizes all of the signs for what they are. Elide is _nervous_ —uncomfortable, self-conscious even. He wonders how many times he’s missed all of these little cues that Elide’s given him: the defensive use of his last name, the distance she puts between them with her cold attitude, the nail picking, the playing with her hair.

It’s all been right there in front of him—the whole time.

“You don’t make it very easy, you know,” Lorcan mutters her way. He regrets the sharpness of his voice immediately, and a challenging expression breaks across Elide’s face. Lorcan wishes he could blame it on the alcohol, but he knows it’s just because he’s an ass.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to talk to you?” The words burst from his lungs, surprising even him. Now _that_ he can blame the alcohol for.

Elide glares at him. “Well, I’m sorry that I make life so hard for you.”

Lorcan opens his mouth to speak—to defend himself or dig his grave deeper, he isn’t sure—when the bartender interrupts them. Elide accepts her beer from the man readily, flashing the stranger a friendly, _beautiful_ smile before taking off into the crowd. It stings to see Elide be so kind and friendly to someone she doesn’t know; Lorcan thinks of all of the vitriol between them. Is there any chance that Elide might ever look at him that way?

Gods, this woman is going to be the death of him, he thinks.

“Elide!” Lorcan calls after her, jumping to his feet in pursuit. A voice that sounds suspiciously like Rowan tells him to leave the woman alone already, but if Lorcan is anything, he’s stubborn as hell. “Elide!”

The woman in question takes a sharp turn around a corner to escape, and Lorcan growls in frustration. “Godsdammit, woman! Let me finish!”

That stops her dead in her tracks. Elide spins around to face him, fury lining her face. Lorcan nearly crashes into her, so intent on just trying to keep up that he didn’t even notice when Elide finally stopped.

“ _Excuse me?”_ He’s thankful for the fact that guitarists need to keep their nails short as Elide jabs one finger into his chest. Considering how bad it hurts, long nails would make it _much_ worse.

“I’m trying to talk to you,” Lorcan hisses at her, matching her temper with his own. “But you’re so fucking stubborn—”

Elide doesn’t let him finish. She takes off, ducking between two people and leaving him stranded.

“For fucks sake!” Lorcan curses, stomping his foot like a child. He’s height only gives him so much advantage in a party like this, a room full of people crammed together. Just like that, Elide is gone, nowhere in sight.

##  **Aelin Galathynius Shares Photo of Band, including Lorcan Savaterre and Elide Lochan.**

It takes him a while to find Elide in the crowd, but when he does, Lorcan is quick to wrap one hand around her arm and gently pull her away. He’s not generally into grabbing women like this and especially not one that so clearly wants nothing to do with him. But Lorcan is just—he’s feeling desperate. He wants to make this right.

Nevertheless, he keeps little pressure in his grip. If Elide really wanted to get away, she could, and Lorcan wouldn’t stop her. He leads her up the stairs and releases his loose hold quickly once they’re at the landing.

Elide turns on him like a wild cat, eyes burning with anger and cheeks flushed with outrage. Lorcan’s eyes drop to her mouth without his permission, watching as they curse his name. Honestly, Elide’s never looked better to him than she does when she’s pissed at him. The sorry excuse for a dress she wears does little to help matters.

“—Like, who the fuck do you even think you _are_?” Elide is saying, but Lorcan hasn’t heard a word of it. It’s too tempting to just grab her by her small shoulders and throw himself at her, but something tells Lorcan that it’d be the wrong call. She’d probably throw him down the stairs. And he’d deserve it.

“A dumbass—but I think I already told you that,” Lorcan answers ruefully. Elide looks inclined to add a few words of her own, but he continues before she can interrupt. “A dumbass that is _so fucking into you_ , and you can’t even see that because I’m _such_ a dumbass.”

Finally, Elide stays gloriously quiet. It couldn’t be the worst time for her to forget all of her words; Lorcan is desperately waiting for her to react, to say something. Anything. Lorcan decides to repeat himself, albeit softer this time. “I’m so _into_ you, Elide. How can you not know that?”

The words are barely above a whisper. Lorcan’s eyes drop back to her lips, too afraid to look her in the eye. Elide sucks in a quick, sharp breath when she notices where his attention is, and Lorcan decides to take that as a good sign. She still hasn’t said a word, and her silence is killing him.

Lorcan steps closer to her, closing the distance between them to curl his body around her smaller one. Elide doesn’t step back, doesn’t retreat, and so, he leans in. It seems like the right move.

“I thought you didn’t like me,” Elide admits before he can kiss her. Lorcan jolts backward in surprise, his ears burning with embarrassment. Then her words catch up with him.

“You—what?” he stammers, staring at her openly. He takes a step back from her. Lorcan couldn’t feel the farthest thing from dislike for the spunky woman standing in front of him, crossing her arms protectively and staring at her feet.

“You’re not exactly nice to me, Lorcan.” His name from her lips sends a special kind of thrill through his body; Lorcan smiles regardless of the topic at hand. Elide continues, “You basically kicked me out of Doranelle the last time I was here. You kicked me out of an _entire city_.”

“Well, what’re you doing listening to me?” Lorcan defends, still grinning stupidly. “I’m dumbass.”

It makes her laugh as he hoped it would. Elide smiles, looking up at him at last. She takes a handful of his shirt in her hands and tugs him downward. “Yes,” she agrees, voice dropping low. “Yes, you really are.”

When she finally kisses him, Elide tastes like lipgloss and the beer she’s been nursing. Lorcan responds eagerly, leaning in closer to her. He’s been dying for this moment for ages, wondering what Elide would taste like were she to ever let him get close enough. It’s better than anything his mind could come up with.

Elide is just as feisty while kissing him as she is arguing with him. Lorcan relishes in the feeling of her body pressed against his, of her fingers fisted in his shirt to keep him close. They find their rhythm easily, two pieces clicking into place, and Elide sighs into it.

“Elide,” Lorcan asks for more, swiping his tongue against the seam of her lips. The moan that Elide lets out will stay with him for a very long time, he thinks, as she opens her mouth and lets him in. Her fingers thread in his hair, and Lorcan’s hands drag down her body, feeling her curves.

He savors each little gasp and sigh that the woman in his arms makes, eager to explore all of the ways he might get her to make more. Elide nips at his lips, making him groan in turn. Lorcan reads her cues, backing her into the wall to press their bodies closer still.

It’s easy to get lost in the moment, and the kiss turns hot and heavy pretty quickly. Elide clings to Lorcan, scratching her nails along his scalp and moaning into his mouth. Lorcan savors it all, and he grows bolder, tracing his fingers up her ribcage to the underside of her breasts. It’s something he’s wanted to do for a long time. The hiss of pleasure his touch earns sends electricity down his spine.

A laugh echoes up the stairs, causing them to separate at last. Elide lets out a laugh, made high-pitched by her nerves, and she wears the prettiest flush that Lorcan’s ever seen. He grins arrogantly at her, smoothing her hair back from her face in a gesture of tenderness. It wipes the nervous look off of Elide’s face, and she smiles softly, leaning into his hands.

“You’re cute,” Lorcan says, and he presses another kiss to her lips. One that Elide is quick to deepen. He groans softly and leans into it, forgetting once more about their location. They’re still standing in the middle of the hall, right at the top of the stairs.

“I want more of you,” Lorcan tells her in a low voice that makes her gasp. “And of this,” he adds, pressing a heavy kiss to her neck. “But not here in the middle of a hallway.”

Elide seems to come to the same conclusion. She pulls away from Lorcan, a dangerous sparkle in her eye. Lorcan’s breath escapes him; he’s long since learned to fear that look on Elide.

She smiles, taking him by the hand and leading him away. Lorcan follows hopelessly after her, but he breaks into a booming, incredulous laugh when Elide reaches their destination, turning the doorknob to what looks to be a closet. She sends him a cunning smile over her shoulder.

“Elide Lochan,” Lorcan says, voice filled with mock indignation. In truth, he’s floored, but he’s also really kind of into it. “Are you suggesting we fuck in a coat closet?”

“Are you saying you won’t have fuck me in a closet if I ask?” Elide challenges, pulling him into the empty closet behind her. She quick to push Lorcan up against the door and taking charge. The man is putty in her hand as she kisses him, plucking open the front of his jeans.

“No, but don’t you want to—” Lorcan’s voice strangles at the feeling of her hands on him, coaxing his cock out of his pants with a wicked smile. “ _Shit_. I mean, shouldn’t we go on a date or something first— _oh fuck_.”

Lorcan isn’t proud of the desperate little whine that leaves his lips when Elide’s hands release him. She looks delighted by the response, sinking to her knees in front of him; her fingers brush the sensitive underside of his cock teasingly. Elide giggles when Lorcan groans, her warm breath ghosting his erection.

All coherent thought vanishes from Lorcan’s mind as all of the blood in his body rushes south to his groin. The only thing Lorcan can really focus on right now is Elide’s hands on his body and the way her lips hover just a breath away from where he wants them most. His heart pounds in his ears, and his palms begin to sweat.

“So, we can save the courting and flowers for later, yeah?” Elide peers up at him from under her long, dark lashes. Her pupils are blown wide with want, and Lorcan thinks it’s probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life. And he’s spent all night admiring her ass in that dress.

Lorcan swallows, nodding. Elide’s still smiling as he presses her closed lips to the tip of his cock, nothing more than a chaste, evil kiss. All of the air rushes from Lorcan’s lungs as those same lips trail down the underside. Little kitten licks surprise him, causing what little breath he has left to hitch in response.

Elide tugs down his jeans as she works, and Lorcan shifts his hips to aid her. His hands remain fists at his side, as he gasps at the sensations flooding through him. Elide takes her time teasing him; Lorcan’s previous thoughts of honor melt away.

“Oh, fuck,” Lorcan hisses when Elide closes her mouth around the head of his cock. He’s torn between letting his eyes close and watching her work. When he glances down at Elide, she’s watching him, that troublesome gleam still shining in her eyes.

She bobs her head up and down, working what she can’t fit into her mouth with her fist. Lorcan feels dizzy, and he can’t stop the words that are spilling from his lips, bits of praise and compliments. He’s not shy when it comes to sex, and despite his previous assumptions, neither is Elide.

She takes Lorcan’s little directions with grace, moaning around him in her mouth. When Lorcan gets a little too excited, jerking his hips suddenly into her face and making her gag, Elide laughs goodnaturedly, using the moment to catch her breath and flash him a dazzling smile.

“Get up here,” Lorcan growls, reaching for Elide’s shoulders to pull her up to him. He has every intention of making good on the closet sex discussion. When Elide shrugs him off, he whines, “ _Baby_.”

There’s no missing how the word makes Elide shiver. She recovers quickly, shooting him another grin. “When I’m finished,” she tells him plainly, and then she gets back to work.

This time Lorcan’s eyes fall shut; his head thumps against the door as Elide takes him back into her mouth. It’s even better the second time around, Lorcan thinks. His mind narrows down to nothing but Elide and the building tension at the base of his spin. He buries his fingers in Elide’s hair, massaging her scalp and making her hum.

It’s not enough. It’s too much. It’s—

“El,” Lorcan pants, he tries to push her away gently. Elide protests, wrapping one hand around his thigh to keep him close. “Fuck, _Baby_ , I’m going to come.”

She moans in response but doesn’t let go. If anything, she doubles her effort, making Lorcan’s head spin and his body tense up. His heart races in his chest as the pressure in him builds.

“Elide,” he groans, struggling to keep it together. Lorcan’s hips rock into Elide’s mouth, and his muscles begin to spasm. Swear words tumble from his lips as his climaxes, but Elide doesn’t let go, drinking him up.

“Fuck,” he says, when his brain restarts. He’s sensitive, and so he nudges Elide away from his body. She releases him with a breathless, proud laugh. Elide presses a few kisses to his thighs, and then she grins at him. 

“By the way,” Elide tells him as she stands. She tugs her heels back on—Lorcan doesn’t even know when she ditched them—and then she pulls him in close to her. Lorcan sways, still a little unsteady on his feet. He nearly falls into her, but he catches himself with a hand on the wall just in time. Elide grins, presses an incongruously chaste kiss to his lips. “I’m super fucking allergic to flowers. So, you better skip that shit.”

Lorcan thinks he might be falling in love.

Some strangled noise escapes his mouth, and then Lorcan releases a hysteric little laugh that makes Elide’s cheeks dimple when she smiles at him. She cups his face in her hands, and Lorcan hums into the deep, lazy kiss that she gives him. All too soon, Elide pulls away. He frowns.

“Don’t follow after me right away,” she orders, helping Lorcan put himself back together. The urge strikes Lorcan to protest about getting dressed so soon; he still hasn’t had the privilege of discovering what Elide sounds like when she comes. Her smile tells him that she knows exactly what he’s thinking. “If you do, everyone will know that I just blew your mind.”

Lorcan grunts softly. “I think everyone already knows that, El.”

The nickname isn’t intentional, but he feels it click into place just the same. Lorcan isn’t usually one for pet names, other than for Aelin, but El _feels_ right for them. “It’s not a secret why I went chasing after you.”

Elide’s smile falls into something softer. She wraps her arms around his waist, presses her body into his, and tilts her head up, asking for a kiss. Something warm and affectionate squeezes in his chest and Lorcan gives her the kiss she wants readily. They make out in that position for a while, two teenagers hiding out in a coat closet.

When she pulls away, he chases her lips. Lorcan really wishes she’d stop doing that.

“Want to come back to my hotel?” she asks, her voice soft and timid. “We can order room service and watch bad TV on Aelin’s dime.”

“Why didn’t I get a hotel room?” he complains. Elide rolls her eyes at him, biting her lip to stifle her fond smile. It makes him lean down for another kiss.

“Because you live in this city,” Elide reminds him, speaking against his lips. His heart stutters in his chest as she reaches up to smooth back his wild hair. It’s not an easy feat to do without him bent down to kiss her.

Elide presses another kiss to his lips. “I’ll meet you out front, okay?”

Lorcan must mutter some sort of agreement because Elide shoots him another smile, open and free. His heart trips over itself, forgetting how to work, and his throat clogs up with emotion. Her eyes drop to his lips, clearly considering another kiss. Lorcan is very disappointed when Elide catches herself, looking away from him quickly and biting her lip again. She darts out the door before Lorcan can change her mind.

Time drags on forever as he waits, trying to determine just how much time is enough time to wait. Lorcan doesn’t usually make it a point to hide his hookups, but Elide asked him too. So, there he was. Waiting.

Lorcan holds his breath and counts to 100. He gives up around 20, muttering a “Fuck it” and darting out the door. He should’ve known that he was going to run into _someone_.

“Gods, you’re so fucking stubborn,” a familiar voice says. Despite the words being spoken, Rowan Whitethorn sounds happier than ever, his voice rich with unbridled laughter. “You know that, right? I’m _telling_ you—”

“Well, I’m telling you, _Buzzard_ , that _you’re_ wrong!” Aelin Galathynius sounds pissed. Her voice is nearly on the cusp of being shrill, and she babbles so quickly that her words have started blending together in her fury. Lorcan grins at the sound of his friends’ bickering.

It’s only those two fucking idiots.

“Oof!” Aelin collides with the front of Lorcan’s body as he rounds the corner. Rowan catches Aelin, who teeters on her sky-high heels before Lorcan’s brain can catch up with what’s happened. She shoots him a thankful smile, and Lorcan notices how Rowan’s hands linger longer than necessary. About fucking time.

Then they both stare at him, a pair of curious green eyes and suspicious blue ones. Lorcan nearly laughs at the obliviousness of them; somehow, finally figuring out all of his shit has left Lorcan feeling vastly superior to the dysfunctional pair before him.

Thank the gods it didn’t take Lorcan a decade to make a fucking a move.

Lorcan has half a mind to blurt out some great truth to his friends, but the thought of Elide expecting him downstairs convinces him otherwise. Instead, he smiles smugly, looking between the both of them and wiggling his eyebrows in suggestion.

Aelin scoffs at him as Lorcan takes off, but he doesn’t care. The girl of his fucking dreams is waiting for him.

##  **Who is Elide Lochan? The Story Behind Aelin Galathynius’s Lead Guitarist.**


End file.
